


Little Black Dresses and Little Hot Messes

by SilverShortyyy



Series: Little Black Dresses and Little Hot Messes [5]
Category: Dark Shadows (2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10854267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShortyyy/pseuds/SilverShortyyy
Summary: Elizabeth and Julia get home late from a night out. Though, late is particularly early morning. Victoria had gotten out of bed just to find Julia stumbling through the halls. Barnabas opens his bedroom door to a very drunk Elizabeth.





	Little Black Dresses and Little Hot Messes

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired from Fall Out Boy's song Tiffany Blews. I do not own Tiffany Blews, or Dark Shadows. Enjoy.

It was, and Barnabas notes, quarter to four when he awoke to Victoria out of bed. It isn't unusual for her to suddenly up and off while he's asleep, but somehow this felt a little off to him. So he decided to check where she is, maybe loiter the halls with her until dawn.

Besides, they're vampires. Normal sleeping hours are when the sun is up.

As soon as he exited the bedroom, though, he bumped into and caught a body who's blonde hair he would recognize anywhere. The body seems inebriated, mumbling semi-coherent words in varying volumes not so much like this woman. Not used to any of this behavior, nor knowing exactly what to do, he did the only thing he could think of.

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?"

She nods, exaggeratedly, head lolling up and down and soon right and left, which he takes to be an answer of the opposite. Worried and anxious and very well confused, Barnabas brings Elizabeth into his and Victoria's room and set her to sit on the bed. As he half-expected, she slides onto the mattress and curls into a lying position, heels kicked off and coat seemingly absent.

She had been wearing an olive green coat when they left, had she not? But now all she wears is a black form-fitting dress, silk with the skirt hiking dangerously up with the hem nearly showing more than Barnabas ought to see.

Had she been wearing this beneath that coat the entire time? As if to shake him out of his reverie, Elizabeth's mumbling turns into loud, senseless words as one arm lifts up and does mindless circles. He walks up to her and crouches down, cautious as if approaching an animal in the wild.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, might you know what I need to do to get you out of this," he raises his arms, unable to really explain anything, "inebriated state? Just say the word, Elizabeth. I'll bring you whatever you need."

But his efforts are useless, for all he gets in return is more incoherent mumbling, though at least Elizabeth has sat up now. Her legs tuck in under her, and she sways dangerously before leaning back, slowly, slowly, slowly...

He catches her before she falls, and she settles on his chest when he holds her to him. Her frantic mumbling ceased, and she begun to simply breathe. Her inebriation became a little less apparent, though her hands roam his front, thin, knowledgeable hands stroking up his stomach and down his chest. She snuggles up to him, her legs soon splayed on his lap and her head finding comfort on his chest, ear pressed near his beating heart.

Though awkwardly, Barnabas hold her against him, arms holding her around her waist and around her shoulders, unsure what he should do or if he should do anything at all. Noticing she has calmed down, the tension in his shoulders ease the tiniest bit, and he continues to hold her with more tenderness and warmth.

* * *

Victoria thinks Julia's lucky she came out of the drawing room just in time.

Julia Hoffman, known in the household even before Barnabas came as the one who can hold her alcohol like no other, had been stumbling around out of the front door and into the house with her dress askew and her hair ruffled. Her shades were on her head, though in disarray, and she had nearly fallen face first on the floor if Victoria hadn't caught her.

"Julia? Julia!" Victoria tried to wake Julia up, to no avail. It seemed the woman had passed out, and looking down into that peaceful face, Victoria couldn't find it in herself to look away. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she talks more to herself than to Julia, because she's sure Julia wouldn't hear her anyway. "Let's get you onto your couch at least, hm?"

Victoria then proceeded to drag Julia to the room with her couch, and set her there. Despite herself, Victoria pours herself a glass of scotch and sips at it after setting Julia down, staring at the woman in both trouble and fascination.

Fascination, she tells herself, because what else could it be? On the other hand, she didn't know if she could leave Julia like this. It's one thing that she's drunk out of her mind for sure, passed out, and possibly will need help for whatever when she wakes up, but Julia is also a vampire, and God knows what that could mean. So Victoria sips at her drink and thinks, knowing Julia _could_ handle herself, but not knowing if that would be the wise decision.

Needless to say, Victoria also enjoys the view of a Julia Hoffman disheveled on her couch, the moonlight drawing on such a beautiful face and shadows playing on milky skin encased in wonderful, wonderful black cotton.

Just then does Victoria notice Julia wearing a little black dress, cotton as well as a tube dress, where it's wrinkling near the waist possibly from repeated bending and, maybe, trials to seduce someone. The neckline is pulled lower than should be called proper, and the hem of the skirt is nearly more up than it's supposed to be.

Victoria doesn't want to admit how she traces up the milky white skin of Julia's thighs into the hem of the dress, beautiful milky white skin disappearing under black cotton, and if Victoria isn't mistaken, lustful black lace.

Sinful. This is sinful. But Victoria forgets to point that out to herself when Julia stirs awake.

* * *

"Barnabas?"

"Hm?"

By now he's running his palms up and down Elizabeth's arms, guessing at how cold she must be getting in such a small dress. He pretend not to notice how low the neckline is pulled and how close she is to him.

"Julia nearly drove us into a tree."

"I thought you trusted her to drive you home safely?"

"I would have drove us of a cliff thinking the fog is concrete."

His movements begin to be stilled as her fingers slow and somehow find their perch at the bottom of his nightshirt. Her fingers curl their, and if not for her proximity, he would've not known she's humming. He feels the vibrations of her throat reverberating onto his body, her lips alarmingly close to his chest.

Just a little tilt of the head. And the only thing between her lips and his skin would be barely a millimeter of fabric.

"Barnabas?"

"Hm?" He can feel her lips moving, her voice thrumming against his chest.

"Would you kiss me?"

Suddenly her proximity to him, her revealing dress, her lips moving so close to his chest, and her grip on his shirt become so much more vivid to him.

"Would I what, Elizabeth?"

She tilts her head up to look at him, really look at him, her chin resting on his chest and her eyes clear and pure and seemingly sober. She couldn't possibly be, could she? But he knows the Elizabeth Collins he knows would never ask such a thing from him.

_She wouldn't go on a night out._

No matter what, she would never ask that from him.

"Just tonight, while I'm drunk enough not to think, would you kiss me?"

He wants to say no.

But he finds no words coming out of his mouth.

"I promise I want to kiss you too."

And with that he finds himself lowering his head and meeting her lips, nothing else mattering in the moment but her words and her lips and his lips on hers. She faces him fully now, nearly straddling him while her grip loosens on his shirt.

Her palm slides over his body, and he loves the feeling she gives him. Her lips are delicious, and her tongue is as sneaky as his own. Her tongue dashes at his lips and her quickly bats it away, only to have her enter his mouth while he tries to keep his tongue in control.

She seems to understand his body more than he's ever understood it himself.

* * *

"Lizzy? Liz— Victoria? Vicky, what are you doing here?"

The sound of Julia's voice and those furrowed eyebrows sends Victoria back, and she has to keep her eyes from focusing on Julia's eyes. The way that dress just perfectly captures the woman's curves, the way it accentuates _everything_ , the way it makes Julia's pale flesh even paler, sweeter, more luscious—

"You nearly passed out and fell on the floor. Lucky I saw you at the right moment, so I rushed over before you could fall down."

"Ah." Is all Julia says with an almost imperceptible nod. Julia looks as if she's contemplating to get something somewhere, maybe pills or painkillers or a sobering drink, but her eyebrows furrow and her eyes don't leave Victoria's. Julia's brown eyes look void of alcohol, all but her drooping eyelids that suggest the lateness of the night. Actually, it's pretty early in the morning, and it's getting later and later that Victoria thinks she should probably go back to bed now.

Except when she moves, she finds herself moving slowly toward Julia. Julia, who distantly reminds her of a siren, who looks like a seductress with her dress hiked up and the neckline pulled down, lying on the couch as if to coax Victoria out of hiding and to climb on and do something, something, anything.

Victoria feels the shot glass leave her fingers and only slightly hears the clunk the glass made upon being placed on the table. She watches the inches disappear as each step brings her closer, and soon her shadow is looming over Julia, Julia's eyes starting to clear up from confusion. If Victoria hadn't been watching Julia so attentively, unable to tear her gaze away from the beautiful woman's face, she wouldn't spot how Julia bit lower lip while gazing up at Victoria.

Words hanging in the air, Victoria finds her hands placing themselves on either side of Julia's head, one leg swinging over and finding purchase between the backrest of the couch and Julia's thighs. Victoria slowly pushes her weight onto her hands and knees, her body completely over Julia now who's begun to twist to face her completely. Julia's eyes are unreadable, a myriad of many things impossible to untangle.

In the darkness of the night, those wide brown eyes look nearly black to Victoria.

"I think you'd look much more attractive if I was on top, don't you think?"

And even in an inebriated state, Victoria's surprised Julia could flip them over so easily and so soundlessly, her dress hiking up dangerously in the process. Julia's mouth is on Victoria's, and Victoria finds her hand being brought up Julia's thigh. Julia slides a hand down Victoria's arm and grasps at Victoria's shoulder, Julia's other hand sliding into place on Victoria's thigh, fingers teasing to touch underneath Victoria's nightgown.

By now Victoria's nightgown is as dangerously hiked up as Julia's little blck dress.

Julia's body grinds against Victoria's, and Victoria couldn't help but moan into Julia's mouth as she realizes the dampness between her legs at the sheer touch that Julia gives her. Julia's breasts brush against Victoria's own, and it takes everything in Victoria not to gasp and scratch at Julia. Instead, her hand finds itself gripping Julia's ass, and Victoria had never known kissing to be this good, even with Barnabas.

But who's Barnabas? With Julia moving so deliciously on top of her, Victoria nearly forgets the lover she left in bed upstairs. Julia's touch makes Victoria feel electric, makes her feel alive in ways she never thought possible. Julia's hands seem to memorize Victoria's skin in ways Victoria never thought possible, because if she's learned anything from Barnabas, it's that lips memorize skin, small kisses all over a body enough to memorize every inch.

But with Julia, their lips could be locked for the rest of the night and Victoria would feel as if Julia had memorized her body even better that Barnabas ever could.

Victoria tilts her head up just as Julia lifts off Victoria's lips, both panting and trying to insert a breath in between. Brown meets green in a second of repose, before both dive in just as quick and their lips never close again. Julia's tongue pushes into Victoria's mouth and Victoria surprisingly pushes back, just as strong as the woman on top of her. They're both whimpering, hands wandering in so many places at once that neither Julia nor Victoria are sure whose hand is where.

Victoria never thought kissing could feel this good. Julia never thought anyone could feel this good against her.

But tonight, they're both proved wrong.

* * *

Before the sun could rise, Elizabeth's eyes lifts to find Barnabas watching her sleep. His arm is around her waist, and her lips tingle as if remembering the powerful touch he put there with his own lips. She can't find it in herself to regret last night, inebriated or not, and she can see that neither does he.

But just as soon as the moment is there, she kisses his lips one last time before rushing out the door and smiling at him from the doorway.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a hangover to take care of."

She doesn't see the fond smile on his face after she closes the door, nor does he see the small upturn of her lips on her way to her rooms.

* * *

A black cotton dress and a baby blue silk nightgown hang haphazardly on top of each other on the table where Victoria's drink still sits untouched. On the couch, two naked bodies tangle and hide in each other as solace, the first rays of the sun not left ignored even if their eyes are focused only on each other.

Victoria bites her lip, and she sees Julia's eyes glint as if to know why without asking.

"Some bodies just feel better on you than others," Julia whsipers, her voice still husky by the early morning. "And some people understand you more than others."

Victoria brings a hand to trace the curve of Julia's hip. How this woman could actually think old age would bring her ugliness, Victoria had no idea.

"And some people think that Julia Hoffman is beautiful even if she's approaching a new decade of her life soon."

Julia smiles, a shy smile, and chuckles deeply. Victoria feels Julia's chest brush against hers, Julia's body echoing with that chuckle and sending it onto Victoria's skin.

Brown stare into green and green stare into brown. There is a certain sadness there, but moreso there is peace and content.

"And Julia Hoffman thinks her and Victoria Winters' bodies better be in a dress and a nightgown before the sun rises."

With a giggle and a laugh, Victoria and Julia rise from their couch and head over to their dresses, Victoria slipping on her nightgown before picking up anything else she owned on the floor (or any other surface) while Julia pushes herself into her little black dress, collecting her own discarded clothes wherever they ended up in the room.

Julia pours herself a small bit of scotch, and despite herself and her headsplitting hangover, find Victoria's eyes and tip the glass in Victoria's direction. Victoria gets her own glass and tips it off towards Julia, and they drink to each other, and to last night, and to little black dresses on milky white skin and baby blue nightgowns on porcelain flesh.

Victoria lets her fingers trail up Julia's arm one last time before leaving the room, glass left on the table where it had sat all night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
